


White Gulls Call (The Light on the Water Remix)

by Elleth



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Background Femslash, F/F, Gen, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:46:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elwing and Galadriel at the Havens of Sirion. A Remix for Zeen's <i>Of Light Beguiled</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Gulls Call (The Light on the Water Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [havisham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Of Light Beguiled](https://archiveofourown.org/works/894612) by [havisham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham). 



"Have you seen it?" 

_A snow petrel_ , Galadriel realized with a start. She had not seen it, until now. _Racing panicked low above the waves among the screeching seagulls with a light upon her breast. Nestled into the down feathers and drenching them in light, the Silmaril._

"You know I cannot tell you that." The curtains billowed. Galadriel wanted to say: _Open your eyes, cousin. The very wind shows you, though may your wings be made of sturdier stuff than gauze curtain. You will need them._

She realized then – Elwing might need guidance. For all the ichor that made up her blood she had never learned to shift into another shape. Galadriel herself had never truly mastered it, before the quivering of her bird's heart overcame her and she plunged to earth with a nightingale's feather-stubble still itching on her arms. But she knew the means and ways, remembered well Melian's lessons and the kisses that came as her rewards, how they had sweetened learning and made it so much swifter. 

Looking up, she found Elwing gone inside. She might have tumbled over the edge of the balcony, have flown already. When Elwing returned bearing the Silmaril, she was smiling, though the light half-dissolved her.

“I do not know why I fear! It is a lucky thing. I should not go without it.” 

_Her love for it will teach her flight._

Unhappy certainty, then; nothing more to say. The moon was setting, throwing a silver westward path upon the water.


End file.
